The Hour Transcendental

..and at this soft and gentle hour
there's nothing to pack up
all things are left behind
drunk has been the cup-

dim is the horizon
still is the mind
as the weary feet start
to step on
the common path
to that unknown -

will there be moon or sun
stars, clouds, light
in its resplendence ?

will there be hills
lakes, fields, trees
thunder, storms, breezes
foliage, flowers, leaves
roar of the tides and seas
music, sighs, melodies
embraces and kisses
dreams to reappear
which once had perished ?

hark ,the heart is hushed
so poignantly hushed
but willingly accepts
the impending dark

sleep, such tender sleep
with no more memories to keep-

life's last song
has been sung
without remorse
or regret-
everything is resolved
and the mysterious bridge
has been crossed

nothing to look back
no trace left
all love and loss
given up and forgotten--
such sweet oblivion

all is rest
all is peace
all is calm

the hour
at last
the hour
transcendental -

the long-sought after
welcome

silent is the echo
of the distant drum


Grief, pain, suffering
love, bitterness and longing
are all at once over

this blessed hour-
never to return again
come, oh come!